Archive for July, 2012

Birthday Sex

We did it. CK‘s friend and I pulled off a successful surprise (who from now on will be named Hip). Never before had CK been surprised on his birthday, and I was thrilled to be the first (with a lot of help) to do it. He had dinner with friends, dancing til close… What more could he want?

Of course you don’t think I forgot the most important part of the night. When CK and I got home, I was his for the taking. He had me for his every wish. After we said goodbye to the crew, we quickly walked home to truly celebrate the occasion. Hip was with us since he lives in Brooklyn. He was crashing on CK’s couch, but that wasn’t going to stop us from having fun. We said goodnight and closed his bedroom door — Time to get down and dirty.

I stripped down to my boxer briefs and removed CK’s clothes until he was before me in his briefs. I led CK to the bed by hand and pulled him down on top of me. His warm sweaty body felt amazing against my skin. Immediately, we began kissing each other all over our bodies. I could never quiet get enough of his soft supple lips. They brought me comfort like a cozy couch on a cold rainy day. Alas, my lips said goodbye to his as they made a journey across all the contours of his body. I explored every nook and crevice. Sometimes he would squirm because it tickled, and sometimes he would melt with pleasure. My lips found their way to the mountains retreat of his backside. This was one of my favorite places to linger, and oh did I linger.

The squirming continued, but this time, it wasn’t because it tickled. This time, it was pleasure overload. This continued for some time before we changed things up. Ck started his own exploration expedition with his lips on my body. I was laying on my back and his lips were tracing the insides of my thighs until I felt an incredible warming sensation. Every inch of me was in his mouth and he pushed deeper and deeper. Even though Hip was out on the couch, I couldn’t control my vocal expressions of pleasure. CK felt amazing.

From there, CK wanted to top, and who was I to deny him that. I immediately turned over onto my stomach, arched my back, and raised my hips into the air. I was never big on bottoming, but since I met CK, I was converted. No longer did I dread the act. With him, I found great pleasure. I was at ease and thrilled to know how much my man was enjoying my body. As he pushed deeper and deeper, I could feel his gently massaging my prostate. Gentle at first, until he began thrusting deep inside me. My moans grew uncontrollably, as did his. He was truly enjoying his birthday present. This was a man I loved deeply, and I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. As his moans grew louder, I felt a warmth expanding deep inside me. There is something incredibly sexy and intimate about this act. Whenever this happened between us, I felt we were truly one. This was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Sure, I know that’s insane to say after a few short months, but I was hopelessly in love.

We adjusted and passed out in each other’s embrace. I felt so incredibly safe in his arms. My dreams were always much more vivid when I slept in CK’s arms.

The next morning, we woke up as Hip knocked on the door. CK was quite awake, but I was still groggy and couldn’t fully open my eyes. We chatted about how much fun the night before was. I was slowly waking up, and CK and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other, even with Hip sitting at the foot of the bed. His hands were quite active under the covers. Once he discovered my morning wood, there was no stopping him. “Baby! You’re so hard!” he exclaimed into my ear with great excitement. He was like a child with his toy.

When he left us to use the restroom, CK decided he wasn’t quite done having fun. He climbed on top of me straddling my legs and began gyrating back and forth. He slid to the side so he could get me wet with his mouth before returning to straddling me. It wasn’t long before he reached his hand back to raise me to a vertical position while he slid me inside him. It felt amazing. He continued to gyrate with me inside him and the comforter draped over his shoulders. I certainly wasn’t going to protest. It was a bit exciting and my slight exhibitionist side was awakened.

I did feel slightly awkward with Hip in the bathroom a few feet away, but then a big part of me didn’t care at all. I was very comfortable with Hip. I no longer considered him CK’s friend — He was my friend too. We grew even closer after throwing CK a surprise party.

When Hip emerged from the bathroom, even though CK stopped gyrating, he immediately knew what he was witnessing. It wasn’t a full minute before I pulled out and we laid next to each other again. I managed to reach down and find my boxer briefs on the floor to pull on while we all sat on the bed chatting.

Eventually, we all emerged from CK’s fortress of solitude. We were finally ready to face the day, even though it was a Saturday, and there wasn’t much day to face. From there we had no plans, and to me, that is a perfect Saturday with my man.

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After much planning with CK‘s friend, Operation Diversion and Surprise was well under way. I successfully threw CK off the scent, even though that meant making him feel like none of his friends love him. I really did feel bad about that. CK truly cherishes the close friends he has. To feel that none of your closest friends care enough about you to spend the evening with you is a bit heartbreaking.

After ensuring CK would be surprised, I went back to work. I needed to get everyone in gear to ensure I would be able to leave in time to pull this surprise off.

As the end of the day was approaching, I was looking good on time. The man I loved was going to get the surprise he deserved.  When my day was ending, I contacted CK to tell him I was finishing up. I told him to come up to Chelsea Market in a cab, and I would hop in before riding up to his apartment.

As I was finishing up at work, I realized I didn’t get CK a card. I’d already bought him a birthday present. A week and a half earlier, I bought us tickets to see Once on Broadway for his birthday. We really enjoyed it, however, in the cab on the way home, we got into a big argument. It severely tainted the night. We were having a great night out, but it turned sour very fast. After some raised voices and a little pushing and shoving, I was ready to head home for the night, but better judgment kicked in. I wanted this night to be special. I wanted this to make up for ruining his “birthday” night out with me.

I quickly ran across the street to Chelsea Market to find a shop to buy a card. Luckily, I quickly found the perfect card for him. As we got more comfortable with each other, we began breaking wind in each other’s presence. It started off innocently enough, but it quickly escalated in days to the point of no inhibition at all. You can obviously see how appropriate the card was.

Just as I was coming back outside, CK pulled up in a cab. I was texting CK’s friend to talk timing, and it was working out well for everyone involved that we were running a few minutes behind. Apparently, all his friends were banking on us running late. They truly know us all too well. This was a big relief. I didn’t know how I would convince CK to hurry up and get ready if just the two of us were going out to dinner. I told him I had a reservation, but I didn’t want to raise suspicion.

We got back to his apartment, and got ready. CK wasn’t the only one getting a surprise that night. I was shocked when he got ready in record time. As we walked out the door, he commented, “Baby, we’re doing really well on time!” I agreed with a big smile and gave him a big kiss.

We walked a few blocks, and I still wouldn’t tell him where we were headed. When we got to Q2, I walked up to the door and opened it for him. He was very pleasantly surprised. “Baby! You picked this because we ate here when I moved in, didn’t you!? You’re so sweet!” I simply replied, “Yup,” as I motioned for him walk in ahead of me to discover his friends. Only problem was, he didn’t notice them. He began talking to the hostess to get us a table for two. That is, until I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the big table of all his friends.

I can honestly say, until that moment, I’d never seen CK so happy. He was purely ecstatic! Everyone stood and gave him a big hug. “I can’t believe it! You guys really pulled it off! No one has ever surprised me before,” he said as he was handed flowers. CK’s friend and I shared a sideways glance that simply showed how proud of ourselves we were.

The night was a blast. We all sat and had a lovely meal together. Everyone was happy and smiling and having fun. CK’s friend’s mother even called to sing him happy birthday over the phone. When we finished eating, we all made our way back to CK’s apartment a few blocks away to get ready to go out for the night.

After getting changed, we made our way to Therapy and Industry. We stayed out dancing until the lights came on and the bar shut down.  CK looked like he was having the time of his life all night long. We snapped a lot of pictures that night, and looking back, everyone was having a great time.

I think I successfully made up for the botched birthday present. Not only that, I accomplished one of my life’s goals of throwing someone a surprise present. I couldn’t think of a more worthy man than CK to receive that surprise. We all had a truly exciting night out together. I felt a little guilty for making CK feel so low that afternoon, but in the end, I think we gave CK, the man I love with all my heart,  a night he’ll never forget.

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Creating a Diversion

In this day and age, it’s nearly impossible to surprise someone. Everyone is far too connected through so much social media. It’s even more difficult to surprise someone you love because you spend so much time with them.

For the longest time, I’ve had two things on my life’s to-do list regarding surprises — To throw a surprise party and to have one thrown for me. Since I’ve shared this list with CK, he’s well aware of these two items. So, when he birthday arrived, he would have a heightened sensitivity regarding a surprise party. Over the years, I’ve learned to not celebrate my birthday because in the end, if you don’t celebrate it, you can’t be disappointed by the turnout. CK is a bit different. He loves a big party and certainly loves to be the center of attention ;). Nothing was going to stop him.

I knew from the start if I was going to pull off a surprise for CK’s birthday, I wasn’t able to do it alone. I needed to recruit help. Since one of his friends wasn’t particularly thrilled with me after The Prometheus Debacle of twenty ought twelve, I decided to hit up his other close friend for help. It was the day before his birthday which fell on a Friday. I quickly shot him a message on Facebook and told him my plan to surprise CK the following day. I had one big problem. I was swamped at work. We were in the middle of a pitch, and I knew his friend has much more time on his hands as he was recovering from surgery. I asked him to pick a place, set a time, and invite the friends who were still bitter about the movie tickets, as well as any others I didn’t know about. He was onboard.

When he suggested we go to this cute little Thai restaurant in CK’s neighborhood because they also served alcohol, I immediately knew what he was talking about. “That’s perfect!” I responded. I used to order from Q2 when I worked in that neighborhood, and CK and I ate there the day he moved into his new place. I was thrilled, and it would work out well because it was close. It was never easy getting CK moving and out the door. Proximity was prime.

We also decided to create a diversion. I told him to have everyone involved feed a story to CK. The friend I was planning with was going to tell him he would meet him up for a drink later in the night, but he had dinner plans already (which partially was true). The other friends were going to be going out of town to Connecticut until Sunday, but would make it up to him and take him out to dinner Sunday night.

I told him I would take care of CK. That night, I made plans with CK for the following day. I was going to be working down in our Chelsea office, which is relatively closer to his office. I asked him if we could grab lunch together since I was in the middle of a pitch, and I wasn’t sure what time I would be done work that evening. He was thrilled, particularly after no one hit him up to make plans for his birthday.

In the middle of the afternoon, I called CK to make sure we were still on for lunch. We agreed to meet in Chelsea Market (probably a huge mistake). I figured we could get food there and take it up on the Highline to eat it.

I went in one side of Chelsea Market, and he went in the other. Of course, we didn’t find each other in the middle. When I reached the far door without seeing him, I called him. And I called him. And I called him. The phone rang in my hand about one hundred times before he finally picked up the phone. I was getting extremely frustrated since I had limited time to eat with him, and that time was shrinking. But, I took a deep breath and remembered it was his birthday. I needed to keep cool.

We both grabbed some crab/lobster sandwiches and made our way outside to the Highline to find seats for our “picnic.” As we walked, he told me about his friends and how they had plans. He was asking them all to come out for the night, but found only disappointment. I apologized and told him I was still unaware what time I would be released from work (and sadly, that was the truth). In reality, we had plans/reservations for 9:00, and I was desperately hoping we would make that time. I could tell he was a little upset no one would be around for his birthday.

He was very skeptical and asked if I was up to something and planning something, but I denied it over and over. I told him how one friend would meet us for drinks around 10:00, and how he told me the other friends had to head out of town for the night. One last time, he questioned me, and I replied, “Babe, I tried to do something, but it’s not working out. I’m not even sure I can spend your birthday with you. What makes you think I can plan something with others? I’m really sorry! Can I take you out for dinner tonight? A quiet night with just the two of us?” He agreed, but I could tell he was a little upset. I told him I had the perfect restaurant, but I wanted to surprise him with that since I wasn’t able to surprise him with anything else. He looked like someone shot his puppy, but his demeanor also changed. It was almost as if, “Well, if they don’t want to spend my birthday with me, then f*ck them.”

He no longer suspected a thing. We finished our meal, and he walked me back to my office. I gave him a big kiss goodbye and told him I would keep him posted on what time I could get out of work. My diversion worked. I completely threw him off the scent, and we both went back to work.

As soon as I got back to my office, I called his friend. “He was suspicious, but I think I broke his spirits a bit, and now he doesn’t suspect a thing. He thinks it will be a quiet night out to dinner for just the two of us. He has no idea what’s coming…”

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One Gay at a Time will not be publishing today. Stay tuned tomorrow for new content.

Thanks for your patience!

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Highlights From My Trip

CK and I were about to hit our two-month mark. It was two of the best months of my life, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I learned I could truly find love in a man, and slowly but surely, I started to give more and more of myself to him. The wall I built up around my heart was not only cracking but also crumbling. There were a handful of guys in my past I had come to enjoy the extended company of beyond a hookup, but CK was the first man I ever really came to love.

My life was no longer my life. There was no longer a me. It became our life and us. I stopped making plans for one. CK was front and center in my thoughts at all times. We were living together in two homes. We were dining together, drinking together, taking trips together, etc.

CK’s move to an apartment with roommates allowed him a new cashflow he hadn’t had before, however, I was trying to prevent us from blowing that on going out to dinner in the New York City. It’s not cheap, and if we were going to build a life together, he needed to start saving. I wasn’t thrilled with spending all that money going out to eat either. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford it, but we felt it was a bit of a waste. When I was living on my own, I made dinner for myself almost every night. Going out to dinner felt like a luxury and a treat. I wanted to get back to that. We both agreed to live more economically wherever possible. Since CK isn’t the biggest cook, I even started making food and taking it to his apartment so we could have convenient meals prepared. For instance, one night after work, we grabbed some groceries and thawed the frozen spaghetti sauce I made for dinner. We cooked together in the kitchen and ate in front of his TV. It was nice, it was cheap and it was delicious. That meal cost us pennies compared to what we’d spend going out to an Italian restaurant. We were also taking advantage of Groupons and Living Socials whenever possible so on the nights we didn’t feel like cooking, we could grab a nice dinner out and not pay full price.

As a gay man, I’m not quite as mirror conscious as some, but I am a bit vain in some aspects. I love how I look with a great tan, and I love it even more when my hair has a bit of depth and volume. Sadly, a few years ago, my hairline started receding. There was little I could do to prevent it, so I did what I could to mask it. That meant getting my haircut in a certain style, but it also meant highlighting it so it wasn’t one solid color against my scalp. This is one of my few gay vices.

Since I was in junior high, I stopped going to my father’s barber and started going to my mother’s hair stylist. Granted, since moving away from home, I didn’t go home every time I needed a haircut, but I did make it a point to go home and get it highlighted periodically throughout the year.

My hair got naturally lighter in the summer, so before the sun worked its magic, I would always try to trek home for some carmel colored highlights. My hair stylist was a magician. He never measured, but he always got my color just right. The one time I was left under the heat too long, everything slid to the back of the cap, bleaching the back of my head. He managed to dye my hair back to it’s natural color. You couldn’t tell anything went wrong.

My hair stylist also charges me a measly $30 for the highlights and the cut. Granted it’s in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, but it would cost more over $100 to have this done in New York City. Whenever I get my hair cut by someone in the metro area, they ask about the highlights. They compliment them, and I get a big kick out of telling them how much I paid for them — Their jaws hit the floor.

It was particularly difficult to get home before the summer sun this year. My sister wasn’t being cooperative about trips home, so I had to plan something on my own. That meant hopping on the motorcycle and making the two-hour trek home (costing me $10 in gas). I didn’t want to give up my weekend because that was when I went to the beach with my boyfriend, but it was nearly impossible to get away during the week. On top of this, it had to be planned around nice weather. I couldn’t make the trip home if rain was in the forecast.

Summer was passing by, so I decided to take off a half day from work to get it done. After work Wednesday evening, I sped home trying to avoid traffic and made it to my parents’ house just before the sun went down. I found it very sweet that CK was worried about me. He was very concerned with my safety, even after riding with me on the bike many times. I was truly touched. I told him when I was heading home, and I texted him as soon as I got to my parents’ place. I told him it would take roughly two hours, and he was texting me worried after about an hour and a half. It showed me how much he truly cared about me and how much he loved me. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you babe!” he said.

CK was against the trip from the onset. He didn’t like the idea of me getting highlights, but I told him to have faith. He’d seen pictures of me in the summer and commented how good I looked. I promised him I wouldn’t come back looking like an a$$hole. I think he thought I was getting my tips frosted.

It was also nice to catch up with my parents and have a relaxing night in front of the TV with a home-cooked meal. The next morning, I woke at the crack of dawn to hit up the salon. In an hours time, I looked like a new man, and I was back on the road. I had to get back to work by mid-afternoon.

That night, CK saw me for the first time in person, after asking me to send pictures to his phone. He commented on how good I looked. “Babe, I was really worried. I thought you were going to look ridiculous,” he added. I gave him a big kiss and reminded him how I knew what I was doing, cheekily.

Even if I came back looking ridiculous, I’m sure he would have played along and told me I looked fine. We were in love, and my hair wasn’t going to change that. On the flip-side, I think the highlights worked a little magic and made me more attractive to him because, after being away from each other for a night, we had some great passionate sex before dozing off.

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The Game of Phones

Early in my relationship with CK, I was introduced to two of his friends in line at the movies. They were dating each other, and had been CK’s friends for some time. He had a small ensemble of friends compared to my rather sizable pack, so I knew each of them was precious to him. I was nervous to meet them the first time, and following that night, I didn’t quite feel I’d made the cut. I’d seen them twice since then — on the day we took CK’s mother out for mother’s day, but we were in a large group. I couldn’t quite gauge how they felt about me. The other time was to see Battleship, and I had very limited contact with them that night.

When CK asked me if I wanted to go see Prometheus with this pair, I politely obliged. Prometheus wasn’t something I felt necessary to go to the theater to see, as I didn’t go to the movies all that often, but it was something CK was excited to see. To say his friend was excited to see it would be an understatement. To him, this was “the movie of the summer.”

As you know, I’m a Groupon/Living Social fiend. When CK asked if I wanted to go, I asked him to tell his friend to hold off on buying our tickets because I had a Fandango gift certificate I purchased through Living Social. It was commonplace for his friend to purchase our tickets as well as his own, and while this gesture is very nice and greatly appreciated, it offered the two of us little advantage. Once, we had to search the theater to find out who had them at “will call.” Another night, we were at dinner and had to ask for our entrees to be packaged up so we could make the movie in time. Had the tickets not been pre-purchased, we could have simply apologized for our lack of planning and told the happy couple to enjoy the movie without us.

I attempted to use the gift certificate, but it expired. I wasn’t about to ask his friend to purchase our tickets at this point after already telling him not to. I took care of it myself. All of this transpired over text, and when the purchase was finalized, I told CK I got our tickets.

The day of the movie, we arrived at his friends’ apartment slightly behind schedule. It’s rare CK and I can get anywhere on time. I learned early on, as I was told by CK’s friends, “There is normal time, there is Cuban Standard Time and there is [CK] Standard Time.” As a result, CK’s friend was already in a less than chipper mood. We quickly flagged down a cab to the theater to try to get there in time to get decent seats. As soon as we entered the theater, I made a beeline to the ticket kiosk. I swiped my card and the machine dispensed two tickets. At this point, CK’s friend spoke up and said, “Wait. You didn’t get our tickets?!” I explained to him how I told CK to tell him to hold off on purchasing our tickets, not all the tickets. He was fuming. I told him to see if it was sold out, and indeed it was. I was mortified. I know I did nothing wrong, and it was a miscommunication, however, I felt horrible. I immediately told his friend to take our tickets. We would go see something else. He wanted none of it. He got into a tizzy and said they wouldn’t get good seats at this point anyway because we were so late. I insisted he take out tickets, and he said no and stormed off.

At that point, my guilt was lifted. As I said, I did nothing wrong, but for him to respond to me in that way after an honest mistake on all our parts was totally uncalled for. At this point, it was safe to say his opinion of me was no longer in limbo; it was in the sh*tter. As a result, I was p*ssed! Why was he holding this against me? CK was the one who told him to hold off. After speaking to CK, he didn’t expect me to have all four tickets. He was under the same assumption I was about our two tickets. I was already walking on egg shells around this friend, but now I didn’t know how to act around him. We both agreed, from then on out, we would always take care of our own tickets and no one else’s.

CK and I found two seats and watched the movie with ample time to get popcorn and soda from good seats. We both enjoyed the movie, but I left with a bad taste in my mouth from the whole experience. I didn’t understand why all the hostility was being directed at me. Yes, I was a part of it, but I certainly wasn’t the entire problem. With that, I let it go. There was no use in me harping on it. It happened, I apologized, and it was time to move on.

After the movie, we went back to CK’s apartment. I was still a little stressed and still feeling a little fat, so I asked CK if he minded if I went for a quick run. He was cool with it, so off I went for fifteen minutes. When I returned, we showered and attempted to find a place for dinner.

We managed to find a place very close to his apartment. We’d eyed Taboon every time we passed, so we decided to finally give it a shot. The food was excellent, the service was superb, and the company was impeccable. It was the perfect way to end a weekend. I couldn’t think of a better place to finish my Sunday night than a romantic dinner with my man close to “home.” We shared a great meal and great conversation throughout dinner, and when it was over, we walked back to his apartment.

As our lives were blending, I was still finding pitfalls, however, I feel I was navigating them pretty damn well. The movie incident could have gone much smoother, but mistakes happen and life goes on. In the end, it was a movie, but as I would learn later, it was so much more…

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After our week in the “country” house, as CK liked to call it, it was time to utilize our city abode. It was in no shape, however, to be lived in. Sure, the new bed was delivered, the delivery of which was a bit of contention between us, but the bed was surrounded by towers of boxes.

The day the bed was delivered followed a week straight with CK. There were errands I needed to take care of I never got to do when we were together. Because of this, I dropped CK off for the bus and told him I would meet him in the city later. I was trying to be productive with my time, rather than waiting for the bed to be delivered with him. Looking back, we probably should have just done them together, but at the time, I didn’t want to subject him to my boring burdens.

We were both eating dinner when I cooked at my place, so there’s no reason I should feel guilty dragging him to the grocery store. Going forward, I learned to shed that guilt quite easily. But on the flip side, this meant I would be going to the grocery store with him on the other side of the river. That seemed like a much better arrangement. I was beginning to resent that I had to do the responsible duties while he had all the fun, but that wasn’t fair to him. He never turned me down when I asked him to help me, but in reality, I never asked him in the first place. I couldn’t resent him if I didn’t give him the chance to delight me. There were lots of not exciting things we would both need to do, like cleaning our apartments, that while not fun at all, they could be completed much faster with both our efforts in tandem. Our lives were blending together, and I loved it. It wasn’t smooth, but I loved it.

On the flip side, since we were spending so much time together, I was finding it hard to make the time to work out. My body was paying the price, and as a result, my self-esteem plummeted even lower. I needed to start running again. I needed to get back in the gym and start lifting again.

This posed the challenge of a delicate situation. CK proposed that we work out together. I knew I was a far better runner than CK was. That’s not a dig against him at all, but put simply, I ran cross-country in high school and swam in college. In order for me to get results from my workouts, I needed to push myself, and I needed to push myself hard! I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was holding back to run at CK’s pace. I didn’t want to insult him or his abilities, but I wasn’t sure this was something we’d be able to integrate.

Regardless of this, I decided to make an effort to give it a shot. When I told CK I wanted to go for a run one night, he wanted to join me. We both got ready and walked over to the west bank of the Hudson to run along the trail. As I predicted, we clocked a pace much less effective than I was hoping. I decided I needed to speak up. I was met with the response I had dreaded. He took insult to my comments that I needed to run faster. I didn’t know any way to navigate this without creating a conflict. He took it personally that I was insinuating he was holding me back.

As a result, he played the role of the martyr and told me to take off. The result of running at our own pace was what I was hoping for, but the hurt feelings and passive-aggressive response was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I tried to talk to him about it to make it a discussion so there would be no hurt feelings, but he wanted none of it. He’d rather I just go, so that’s what I did.

While I ran, I thought about how to deal with the fallout of this. It made sense to me that we work out together, but we needed to do it in a way that benefited us both. I was going to resent it if I wasn’t getting the full potential out of the workout, and that benefits no one. That’s when I came up with a solution:

When we ran together, we would start out together at a warm-up pace. When I was sufficiently warmed up, I would pick up the pace and run ahead of him. When I felt I was half way through the workout, I would turn around and pick him up on the way back. When I overtook him, I would slow down to a cool down pace. I thought it the perfect solution.

It’s also basically what we were doing. When I turned around, I quickly came to find myself right behind him. As we ran, I proposed this new idea, but he still wasn’t having any part of it. I realized I was in a losing battle, and this would have to be addressed later when his ego healed.

Working out in the gym was also a whole other battle. When I go to the gym I like to be by myself. I do not treat it as a social excursion. I am there to work out and go home. I don’t even like spotting someone when they ask me for help. I resent it because I am there for my workout, not theirs. I don’t ask anyone else to spot me. I am not a trainer or an employee. Why should I be “working” at the gym? I know this sounds very antisocial, and that’s exactly what it is. I’m not the biggest fan of lifting. I see it as a necessary evil. I want to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

When CK asked me to lift with him all the time, I was very hesitant. I loved him, but I was so used to lifting by myself. I knew if we did this together, I would get cranky, and it would start a fight. I was trying to save us from that. I also liked to go to the gym during my lunch break at work, so when he would ask me to hit the gym with him in the morning or the evening, I wouldn’t want to. I would want to use that time for far more fun things.

It was going to be a delicate balance, trying to integrate our lives, but eventually we would find equilibrium. Both sides would have to make sacrifices and concessions, but both sides would benefit from each other as well. Needless to say, CK was the first guy I’d gone to these steps with. It was new territory for me, but it was certainly exciting as well!

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Test Run

It was a bit of a stressful weekend with CK, but we managed to survive. In the meantime, more people were coming into our lives.

CK’s apartment was already occupied by two men. One was a bit crazy and not the easiest person to gauge. He kept his cards close and was a bit of an enigma. The other roommate was an Italian workout fiend. Whenever I saw him, he was coming or going in running gear. I didn’t take too much time to get to know him either because he was only around for another month before moving to a new place. They already had a new roommate lined up to fill the room. I’d get to know him soon enough. I was trying to tread lightly with them. I know it’s a rocky start with new roommates, and I didn’t want them to have the perception I’d be the fourth roommate right off the bat.

However, we didn’t really have to worry about that much because CK still didn’t have a bed. In the meantime, his roommate moved a futon into his room they were getting rid of. While this was sweet of him, it actually became a hindrance in the room. It was just one more thing to navigate while trying to unpack his boxes. It was not in good shape and obviously not something we could sleep on. After much discussion, CK and I took a trip to Macy’s to purchase a bed that weekend. When he tried to schedule delivery, the earliest they could deliver it was the following Sunday.

As a result, CK moved in for a week. Obviously, this could be very detrimental to a fragile not even two-month relationship, but CK and I had faith in each other. We would be spending every waking moment together with the exception of our workdays. That’s a whole of lot me! He packed up a serious overnight bag, and we made our way to Hoboken.

I’m not gonna lie. There were plenty of challenges here. For instance, it took a lot of diligence to make sure our living space didn’t look like a bomb exploded. We made space in one of my drawers for his clothes, tossed his shoes in my closet with my shoes, etc. With spending so much time together, we were both walking on eggshells to not set the other off.

As much as there were downfalls, I walked away from our week together pleasantly surprised how smoothly it went. We had discussions, but we didn’t fight the whole week together. I actually came to enjoy the time we spent together. I felt comfortable and looked forward to coming home to him. It also gave me great faith we could someday live together in bliss. I got so used to sleeping with him every night in my bed that eventually, when he wasn’t there, I had a hard time sleeping. My body knew it was missing something.

As far as test runs go, this went swimmingly well! Not only was I looking forward to the day I no longer needed to share my space with inconsiderate roommates, but also, I was looking forward to sharing a living space with the man I love, CK. Perhaps that living space might also be shared with a new puppy. Regardless, he was home for me. For me, it didn’t matter where we were — When I was with him, I was home.

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The Move

Nothing really puts stress on a relationship quite like a move. One year had gone by for CK in The Big Apple. He moved to the city in a hurry, finding a nice apartment in a convenient neighborhood, but because of the rush, he ended up paying more than one would like living in New York City. There are plenty of things to see and do in the city that never sleeps, so spending all your money on rent is no fun!

He decided when his lease was up, it was time to find new living quarters. This was quite stressful, not only for him, but also for me. Selfishly, he lived two avenues and a few blocks from my office. I could easily walk there, and commuting to his place from mine in Hoboken was a snap. Chances are, it wasn’t going to get any easier.

When he told me he started looking on the Lower East Side, I was nonplussed. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hike to get to his place every time I came to see him. The Lower East Side is only convenient to get to from one place — The Lower East Side. But, in the end, this wasn’t my decision. I was there to be supportive while he went through the stress of trying to find a new place.

When the search expanded out to include Brooklyn, I nearly had a panic attack. Screw hike — Brooklyn was going to be a day’s journey to get to from Hoboken. I was petrified for our relationship. I wasn’t sure at the time if our relationship could survive the stress on a day-to-day basis.

Finally, after his mother flew to NYC to help him pack and find a new apartment, he landed in a sweet spot. I was thrilled with the final outcome. He managed to find a room in an apartment in a managed building in Hell’s Kitchen with two roommates. I had experience in Hell’s Kitchen. Broadway lived in Hell’s Kitchen, and I was able to walk to work from his apartment. It was also very convenient for me because Port Authority wasn’t far from his apartment, so I could use the bus system. It was the quickest way to travel when heading to or from that part of town. I felt very comfortable in HK as well. I’d taken more than a handful of dates to that neighborhood. The gay population was large enough that no one looked twice at two men holding hands or sharing a kiss.

When the time came to move, I wanted to run and hide. I’d dealt with CK’s attention span before, but nothing of this caliber. I thought it nearly impossible to keep him on task so this move would go as smoothly as possible. Even with the help of his mother, there was still a lot of work to be done. CK isn’t the best planner in the world either. While the idea of booking moving men a few weeks in advance or gathering boxes crossed his mind, the action and follow-through never occurred.

I was trying to be patient. He was going through a lot. I was going to help him, not out of obligation, but out of love. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him, however, it was going to take a lot of strength and biting my tongue to get through this.

I agreed to help him pack things up Thursday after work. I had limited time, however, because I had a volleyball game that evening. I left work as soon as I could and arrived with flat boxes for him from my mail department. We made a lot of progress, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of comments. I do have to say, it went a lot better than I expected. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Luckily I had a built-in time limit, and the time came for me to head back to Jersey.

We both took the following day off from work. After many failed attempts to get a truck, borrow someone’s car, book movers, we decided to try to rent a Zipcar. This of course wasn’t going to work because there is an application period. Although we were able to walk over to one of their offices in New York City, we had to wait for him to be approved to rent a car. We wasted most of the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do and lying around. After growing incredibly frustrated with the poor use of our time, I decided to stop worrying. I tried to keep my frustration to myself. While I was going to be there to offer my support, in the end this wasn’t going to be my problem. If he drug his feet long enough, this was either going to become his huge hassle or it would increase his financial burden.

There were rides in the back of a van with boxes and potholes. There were things packed at the bottom of a box only to be torn open again. There were enough dust bunnies to start a farm. The list goes on…

Of course, there were copious amounts of arguing. We rarely agreed on anything, but we did both make an effort not to rile the other up. When we finally got all his things in a rented U-Haul van, we had to wait outside in the cold/drizzle until his roommate came downstairs to let us into the elevator bank. His roommate still hadn’t given him the key, so we had yet one more person to rely on to be responsible.

After a little blood, a lot of sweat and almost some tears, we managed to get everything into his apartment. Beyond that, we managed to get all of his belongings into his bedroom. The only thing that saved us was the fact that he didn’t have a bed yet. He left his old bed behind in the previous apartment and hadn’t ordered a new one yet. Of course, it would take some time before things got unpacked. The lack of bed also meant we had to head back to Hoboken every night so we had somewhere to sleep.

It was a very stressful weekend, but in the end, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, it could have gone smoother, but in the end, everything worked out. I was happy to help my man, and I know he truly appreciated my help. And the fact that we survived something as stressful as this told me we could survive just about anything.

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Results Are In

It’d been a few days since CK and I got tested for STDs at the clinic. We had to wait for our results to come in. I am from the school of thought that believes there’s no use worrying. Worrying won’t change the results. So, from the moment I walked out the door of the clinic, I stopped thinking about it. I’d set a reminder in my phone to call when my results would be ready.

I had a busy day at work, so I had to put off calling until my workday calmed down. I found a private place to make the call and waited for the results with bated breath. I wasn’t particularly worried. Perhaps I should have been more worried. When we left the office, we both put reminders in our phones to call. Why hadn’t I heard from CK? Did he forget to call? Did he call and was afraid to share the news with me? The receptionist picked up the phone asking, “Please hold?” Apparently, we were going to drag this out as long as possible. When she finally came back to the phone, she asked for my name and what insurance provider I use. After giving her the information, I was put on hold once again. They really know how to up the drama — They should work for TNT.

Finally, she gave me my results. I was clean on all counts except one. I came back positive for Herpes Simplex Type I, aka cold sores. I’d had this since a child and “inherited” it like many Americans from my mother. This was not news to me. I was quite happy. I came back negative on all the heavy hitters — Chlamydia, Syphilis, Herpes Simplex Type II, Gonorrhea, HIV. Since CK and I had unprotected sex (yes I know how stupid we are), I assumed he would have good news to share as well. I texted him to ask him if he called yet.

I wasn’t expecting his response. He informed me that he did indeed call and received his results, but he wanted to talk in person. What could he need to talk to me in person about?! If I came back negative for all but cold sores, what could he need to discuss with me? Now, I was scared.

After work, we had plans to stay in the city. I left my office and walked to his apartment when he finished work. When he answered the door, he was in his underwear. He was about to hop in the shower just as I arrived. I gave him a big kiss and made myself comfortable while he freshened up. When he came out of the shower, we laid in bed together for a while – He in his towel and me fully dressed from work. I brought up the testing results, but he asked if we could talk about it later. I complied. After laying with each other, we got ready to go to dinner. It was getting to be about that time. We settled on a Greek place, Ethos, not far from his apartment we’d been to before. The food was good, so I wanted to go back.

We held hands while we walked there noticing dogs along the way. CK was still going on about how he wanted me to get a dog. I explained once again how I couldn’t handle one, nor did my lease allow for one. I told him, “When we live together, I will get a dog.” His eyes lit up as a smile spread across his face.

We shared a lovely and romantic dinner for two before heading back to his apartment for the night. I was impressed with myself for not bringing up the testing results sooner, but at this point, I had to ask. He was obviously holding something back. As we walked he told me a story about how he contracted oral herpes. In the middle of the story, I cut him off. I told him I was already positive for simplex I, and he had nothing to worry about. He was very confused. He didn’t understand how I was making light of this. He was actually quite miffed I wasn’t forthcoming with that portion of my results.

The way I saw it, I would bring it up when I had an outbreak. If he’d never been exposed to the virus or oral cold sores, we would prevent him from coming in contact with me, i.e. we would stop kissing until it went away. I really didn’t see it as a big deal. Lots of people get cold sores. In fact, 80% of adult Americans are infected with the virus. I’ve been fortunate not to have experienced them very often, but they do happen when I get too much sun or when my lips split in the winter. I could see the relief on his face and in his posture. For the first time all night, he relaxed.

It was at that moment we both celebrated our results. We stopped in the middle of the street to hug and exchange a giant kiss. At this point, he couldn’t wait to go home and have sex.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. That night, we had the best sex we’d had to date. It was incredibly passionate and incredibly raw. We had no worries and no cares. In the end, I finished inside him, and he finished inside me. It felt amazing. I’d never felt that before. I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive about it at first. I’d only ever finished inside one other guy before without a condom. I’d never allowed anyone to ejaculate inside me.

It didn’t feel like I thought it would. I imagined a lot more sensation than the actual moment, however, the act made me feel so much more. The emotions tied to the action added so much more to it. I truly felt loved by him, and I truly felt my love for him when I exploded my seed deep within him. I feel the need to say, this is not the deal that works for every couple. CK and I have spoken at length about this topic. We will continue to be tested on a regular basis, regardless of either of us feeling a “need” for it. We have made it part of our routine. We know there are risks any time you have unprotected sex, however, we have come to mutually trust each other and find comfort in that. I am in no way endorsing unprotected sex!

It’s incredible how much that simple act brought us closer together, but I think that night kind of sealed the deal for us (Pun not intended). We’d had passionate sex before, but I think that night was the first of many night we stopped having sex and started making love.

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